


About Last Night

by storiesfortravellers



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Biochemistry, Brief Mentions of May/Ward and Ward/Coulson UST, Crack, Drunkenness, F/M, Gen, Hangover, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 18:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesfortravellers/pseuds/storiesfortravellers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this prompt at comment-fic on livejournal: Grant Ward, after last night he'll never let a biochemist play bartender. Never ever ever again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	About Last Night

Pain seared through Ward's head as he roused, and he tried to figure out what had happened. Alien attack? Knocked unconscious by a superhuman? 

He looked around, wincing at the sunlight in the windows, and saw most of his teammates likewise lying around the bus in a stupor.

Oh, that's right. It had been someone's bright idea to let Jemma play bartender. 

Grant was pretty sure the 'someone' was Fitz. 

And that it was only after they were twelve sheets to the wind that Jemma had casually mentioned that she had added her 'special blend' to the cocktails, that she spent two years developing for maximum intoxication with minimum health risk.

It was official: Grant hated scientists.

He heard Skye groan then, and she rolled over on the couch across from him. She opened her eyes, saw Grant, and started laughing. 

Laughing and pointing.

"What's so funny?" Ward said. He was pretty sure he didn't want to know. 

"You don't remember what you did?" Skye said, giggling still, even as she held the bridge of her nose in pain from her hangover.

Grant searched his memory. It was mostly... a blur. Though, there was a faint hint of a memory of hanging upside down from the ceiling, his legs wrapped around a rafter. And he remembered his legs feeling cold as it touched the metal, which... meant he was pantsless at the time. And he feels like he remembers singing while upside down and pantsless. It ... might have been a song about his favorite body parts of his teammates.

Okay, there was a slight possibility he had sung a song about Melinda's breasts and Coulson's ass. 

"I don't remember a thing," Grant said to Skye and rolled back to face the other direction.

"That's weird," Skye said, "How can you not remember the monkey?"

The monkey? What monkey?

Grant moaned and closed his eyes, wishing he could throw his headache along with the entirety of the night before into some giant super classified trash heap, never to be found again.

He opened one eye when he heard Fitz place a cup of coffee in front of him.

"Hey, wild man," Fitz said with a smirk. "You were quite impressive last night, weren't you?"

Ward was positive he didn't want to know what that meant. He managed to sit up and take a sip, nodding his thanks to Fitz.

He frowned, however, when he felt something crunchy in his coffee.

"Fitz? What is this?" he asked.

Fitz shrugged. "I figured now was as good a time as any to test my anti-hangover nanobots."

"You introduced tiny robots to my system without telling me?"

"Not like it's the first time."

Grant put his coffee down and lay back and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.

Fucking scientists.


End file.
